


Stiles vs. The Tree Roots

by JustSomeMusings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: At least they're evil to Stiles, M/M, There are elves, Very Vague Descriptions of Violence, and evil trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeMusings/pseuds/JustSomeMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are elves, tree roots, and Derek's leather jacket. <br/>Based on this drawing by Kaciart: <a href="http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/35252244967">Link</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles vs. The Tree Roots

**Author's Note:**

> Lines that are starred (*) are Kaciart's found under the picture [here](http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/35252244967).

Stiles isn’t really sure how he got here. Ok, he knows he’s here cause of the whole when a mommy loves a daddy bit, but he means here, as in now, as in how the hell did he wind up bleeding and being carried piggy back style Derek, Mr. I-Speak-With-My-Eyebrows-Because-Talking-Isn’t-Sourwolf-Enough. This isn’t a normal thing, well it shouldn’t be a normal thing, but he guesses it kind of had become a normal thing. By normal thing he means charging headlong into situations to save Scott’s ass (or Issac’s or Jackson’s or Derek’s occasionally; Lydia and Allison can pretty handle themselves), and winding up hurt because he does not prance around during the full moon in a wolf uniform. 

This time it really had been Scott and it really had been Scott’s fault (despite what Scott says). If he had explained exactly what was going on instead of appearing in Stiles’s bedroom window, saying something about death, and then taking off again in the middle of Stiles’s questioning him (and his sanity), then he might have known what he was walking into and what he walked into was Elves. Elves. With the capital E and everything. Elves, with a capital E, who were pissed at those that walk on all fours and sprout fur, i.e. those of the werewolf variety and by extension Stiles (who, coincidentally was also pissed at those of the werewolf variety). 

Apparently the Elves decided Beacon Hills, California was a lovely place to hunker down and be all supernaturally. Derek’s pack did not agree, nor did Allison and her dad, nor did Stiles really, but he wasn’t going to tell that to the dude who was towering over him at six foot seven…well he wasn’t going to tell him a lot. Ok, maybe more than a lot, but c’mon! They didn’t need anymore creepy, stalkery, paranormaly people roaming around Beacon Hills. Its way too crowded as it is and so, he might’ve told the Elves-Who-Have-Scarier-Glowing-Eyes-Than-Werewolves, just that. They might not have liked it. 

But no one else was saying anything! Apparently they were all trying to communicate this via telepathy, or in Derek’s case, eyebrows. Elves are mystical creatures of nature and as such they do not understand eyebrow signals…or, well, Stiles’s in pretty sure they don’t. He doesn’t really know. In fact the only thing he does know is that when you tell them that you are not appreciative of their efforts to join the ranks of Beacon Hills they wrap you in tree roots. No, really. He’s serious. Tree. Roots. 

And those things fucken hurt! The bark scraped this mouth. There are splinters and bruises from the crushing force in places he doesn’t even want to think about and he has a hole in his side from where a tree root went in him. There was part of tree in his body. There are no proper terms to describe how disturbing that is. None. No where. No has them. Nor will they ever. Plus he has no idea how is going to explain to his day that he was squeezed to the point of passing out from lack of oxygen by a tree (speaking of which someone is going to need to explain how the tree decided he was a good, kind soul, and in way werewolf-ey and let him go) and that’s why he’s covered in splinters and blood. Can he say he tripped into a tree? Sort of? Whatever. He’ll figure that out later because all of this pales in comparison to his current predicament. 

That being that he is being carried by Derek Hale the Alpha Wolf and bleeding all over his precious leather jacket. He feels another attempted murder coming on. He doesn’t even know how he’s gotten this far or how he is still holding onto Derek. Another thing on the list of things Stile’s does not understand is why Derek has let him ramble on about all this because Derek was there and he knows what happened. Derek also hates it when Stiles rambles…or talks normally…or open his mouth…or is Stiles in anyway. So why then is he allowed to ramble?...Holy. Shit. He’s dying. Stiles is dying. That’s why! This is totally a sympathy ramble! Wait. Can Derek even feel sympathy? Well the answer must be yes, since he is dying and this is his last ramble and Derek is letting him have it! Which is also why he is letting him bleed out on his jacket! It all makes sense now! 

“Shut up, Stiles.” 

“Oh man, I’m bleeding all over your jacket. You’d totally kill me- if I wasn’t already dying!” 

“You’re no dying, Stiles.” 

“I am! I totally, totally am! And this is you being nice and I can’t-” 

“I wouldn’t let you die Stiles.” 

“I’m so young! And my dadddddd. What about my- Wait. What?” 

“I said I wouldn’t let you die.” 

Stiles blinks. What. But that means that Derek doesn’t want him to die. Derek wants him alive. Derek likes him alive, which Stiles totally knew, but it’s awesome to have conformation. 

“This totally means you care.” 

He can’t see the eye roll that Derek gives him, but he knows that it happened. He doesn’t care though. Derek cares about him. A slow smiles starts to burn its way onto Stiles’ lips. 

He buries it in the back of Derek’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Can we talk about how it took me ten minutes to remember how to spell the word spout? -_-


End file.
